


Nice Place Ya Got Here

by anotherjadedwriter



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Oral Sex, quadrant vacilitation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-16
Updated: 2014-10-16
Packaged: 2018-02-21 09:27:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2463302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anotherjadedwriter/pseuds/anotherjadedwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's cute, now that you know him. Death makes it so much easier to just, talk to people. He had his reasons. You have to respect that. And now, you know that he's cute, and shy, and actually pretty okay as a person.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nice Place Ya Got Here

You’re sitting behind him, running your fingers through his hair and purring while he slurs his way through sentence after sentence. It’s actually quite cute, and you tell him so, kissing his cheek. He blushes a little and leans on your chest, his fins flicking.

”Uh. Thanks fer havin me. Know we ain’t always been on the same side and all, so it means a lot.” He murmurs, looking off to one side of your treehive. “Nice place ya got here, too.”

You smile and trace the dull angles of his horn. “Not a problem. Thanks for coming.” A pause, you wonder if you’re being too cheesy. “It can get pretty lonely, yknow?”

He doesn’t move away, though, he just leans into you a bit more, his head falling back onto your shoulder so he can look at you and you find yourself licking your lips at the violet of his gills all bared like they are.

"You been lonely?" His voice is this soft, sad little sound that makes you want to pet him everywhere. "Me too, been lonely a lot… But you ‘n me are friends ‘n I ain’t been lonely, ain’t been upta nothin outta lonesome since we’ve been gettin on."

That’s too much. He’s too cute and you can’t help it, you lean forward and catch him in a kiss, almost soft enough to maybe be pale. But when he presses back and coos something low and hot into your mouth, any chance of it being pale is gone. Your hand press to him everywhere, his chest and thighs, touching any skin that you can get to around his ridiculous armor.

"W-wait." He murmurs, pulling away, and you freeze. "The clasp in the back."

Grinning, you draw your tongue over one of his gills as you unclasp his armor and let it thud to the floor. He twists in your lap and ends up with two cold hands under your vest and a cool mouth on your neck. You’re cool with that, you just run your hands over his chest and back and grope his ass a bit, since you can. After you pinch him experimentally, you feel a shock of pain and he curses as your blood wells up to your skin.

"Fuck, sorry, didn’t mean to do that, sorry." He hisses, shrinking away from you like you’re gonna hit him or scream at him.

You wrap him up against yourself, purring as soothingly as you can manage when your bulge is still pretty sure it wants to come out. “S’okay. Just try not to do that again.”

It’s another few minutes before you try to kiss him again, slower this time, your hands both tangling in his hair. Dualscar melts against you, arms over your shoulders and chest to yours, solid and cold and fuck, he’s gorgeous. His hips shift against yours just barely and you feel his bulge in his pants, and you nearly spill right there.

As you pull your lips from his, you nibble at his tongue, earning a croon that makes your nook clench. “You’re so fucking pretty.”

Fins flushing—is it in arousal? You need to look into that—flushing to the tines, he mumbles something you don’t catch. Then, louder, he grinds into you. “Never been called pretty. Usually it’s handsome or terrifyin.”

"Mm, you’re all that too." You purr, tilting your head back obligingly as he nips under your jaw. "I’m just trying to butter you up so I can get your bulge in me, honestly. I’d call you anything you want."

The color on his fins spreads over his cheeks, and you can’t help yourself, you have to kiss him again. He mumbles into your mouth as you do, and it makes your pusher ache in something like pity.

"Never done that, neither."

Hands on his back, soothing, petting him lightly, you respond. “It’s up to you. We don’t have to do anything.”

The hands at the back of your vest tighten, he makes this sad little noise, pushing against you and he’s so needy, you want him and you hate that you want him so much more for his neediness, his innocence. Another kiss, and another, you just keep kissing him, moving him to where he’s laying back under you and you can roll your hips against his ass.

Lips on his gills, you tease the most musical sounds out of his throat, shivering little notes that match his hips lifting on their own when your tongue dips just inside the slits. Your bulge is straining against the front of your pants, your nook is wet and you want him so badly, you keep telling him so, whispering that he’s everything you want, how much you’ve to adore him and how good you know he’ll feel.

He actually shoves his own pants off his hips, yanking the leg off one side and then dragging you in for another kiss. You fight your own pants off when he coos and ruts his nook right there against your bulge, sucking in a sharp breath at how cold he is.

As you twist into him, pushing deeper bit by bit, he clicks and chirps and twitches, pushing at you to get you in deeper. His nook is stretched so nicely around your bulge already, he’s nice and tight and you hate the way it makes you selfish. When you can, you lift yourself up, wiggling a little awkwardly to kneel with a leg over his over him on the pile.

It’s worth it, though, his bulge only takes a tiny little push towards your nook and he’s bucking into you, hard enough that the stretch makes it sting, even though you’re literally dripping on him. You don’t tell him to stop, though, he’s calming himself as much as he can and the sting goes away on it’s own.

When your pelvis is there against his, he’s whining this broken rendition of your title, dragging you in and clinging. His nook is getting the flutters you know means he’s close, his bulge is stiffening out in you and even though both those things feel great you don’t want it over so soon.

Nothing for it, though, because when you peck his lips he keens, spraying cold violet inside you and clenching on your bulge to try and milk it of every drop of your material. You grind into him, against his bulge as it starts to deflate, but you’re not about to cum.

Once he’s done catching his breath and you’re pulling off him with a wince, he starts apologizing, babbling that he’s never done that before and he’s so sorry that he’s not a great lover. You kiss him until he’s quiet, assuring him that he was great, you enjoyed it.

"Lemme help you, please." He asks, suddenly, and you pause in stroking his cheek. "I can use my mouth, I don’t wanna be th’ only one who came."

Smiling, your lips press to his. “Only if you really wanna. You don’t have to.”

"I do." He responds, eager, kissing you a few times, quick and shy like he’s a fledgling troll filling his first pail. "Lay on your back, though."

You allow yourself to be laid down, and when his lips close around your tip, you settle in for an unspectacular blowjob, because, well, look at him. He’s probably never done this in his life.

Then his lips widen, and he drools around your bulge as it slithers further, into his throat, his nose all pressed to your pelvis and you only keep still because you’re swearing loud and hard, your bulge unable to even move in the tight column of his throat, and it’s so good, so fucking good, you keep telling him that.

Fingers at your nook make you click, make your hips twitch up and makes him choke for an instant. Then you’ve got two fingers rubbing lazy at your nook, pressing against the base of your bulge through your flesh, you wonder how he can breathe or is he’s just holding his breath. the coil in your gut is too tight, too much, he crooks his fingers and hits something spectacular in you and you’re gone, coming with a croon of his name.

He pulls off your bulge as soon as you start to come, choking for air (holding his breath, apparently). His hand strokes your bulge as you come, and his mouth presses to your nook. Your orgasm is drawn out almost too much as he eats your nook, you know he’s tasting himself, it makes you groan, writhe, and shudder, claws tearing at your soiled pile.

By the time he pulls back, you’re drooling, shaking all over because it’s too good, too much. He crawls up with you, careful of your wings, and you notice the mix of your colors on his chin.

"I really fuckin like you." Is breathed against your ear. "C’n I stay until night?"

It takes some effort, but you manage to wrap him up against yourself, purring slow and drowsy. “Please do, fuck. You’re so good.”

You can discuss what exactly you two are to each other after you sleep off the best orgasm you’ve had to date, and once he’s not curled to your chest. You hope he wants you like you want him, and not just out of loneliness or a good fuck.

You want to love this troll, and maybe your unlife is the best place for it to happen.

**Author's Note:**

> Nitram/Ampora ships are so cute.  
> if you enjoyed this, consider tipping me here: https://ko-fi.com/A781PZJ


End file.
